The first thing Meggie heard when she stepped into the drawing room was Aunt Alex saying, 'You knew that Meggie was an exceptional horsewoman, didn't you, Jeremy? Ah, here you are, my love. Come and sit beside me and hear what Jeremy has been doing.'
Jeremy said to her, 'The last time I saw you, Meggie, you were thirteen years old, and you were carrying around little Alec, teaching him the names of all the flowers. I remember asking you the name of one particular pink blossom, and you said it was a lost cause, you couldn't remember, and you'd made up so many names that Alec couldn't remember either. Alec burped, if I remember correctly.'
Meggie grinned. 'I had promised my father and Mary Rose that if she had the babies I would teach them what was what. The names of flowers, however, defeated me. They still do. To me, a rose is a rose is a rose, all the rest is different smells. Alec is now seven years old, can you believe it? And Rory is four.'
'I look forward to seeing your family.'
Douglas said, 'How long will you be in London, Jeremy?'
Jeremy said, 'Well, Uncle Douglas, as it happens, I'm here for a very specific reason. Then I will be returning to my home in Fowey.'
Meggie sat forward, words spilling out of her mouth because she couldn't dam them up. 'Come, tell us, Jeremy. Spit it out. You're here for my first Season, aren't you?'
He looked perfectly blank, but just for an instant. 'Not only your Season, Meggie.' He paused a moment, then looked at his aunt and uncle, opened his mouth just as Darby said from the doorway, 'My lord, Cook has sent you her favorite lemon tarts. She informed me that they were Lord Stanton-Greville's favorite.'
'Yes, they are,' Jeremy said. Conversation was desultory as Alex dispensed the tea and offered the cake plate around.
'They are delicious,' Jeremy said. 'How is Oliver doing at Kildrummy, Meggie? I haven't received a letter from him in nearly six months.'
Meggie said, chuckling, 'He is altogether too happy-you can just see him leaping over the sheep killers that haven't yet been filled in-you remember, Jeremy, the huge gouges in the earth that sheep, because they're stupid, have always fallen into? Anyway, he's filled in a number of them over the years. Oh yes, Oliver's very happy. You can just stand there and hear him whistling as he counts the sheep and cows and goats and directing any repairs on Kildrummy and the crofts, see that exuberant smile of his when he greets everyone in the village.' She paused a moment, giving everyone a chance to laugh, then added, seeing everything so very clearly now, 'Do you know what else-he has announced, just last month, that he is ready to marry.'
'Good Lord,' Jeremy said, choking on the lemon cake. 'Oliver, married? I'd believed him quite content in his single state.'
'He is thirty, I believe,' said Douglas. 'I was leg-shackled at twenty-eight. Oliver is behind schedule and so I have told him. He is ripe.'
'Ah,' said Jeremy, and grinned a fool's grin, 'I am also ripe. Perhaps it is predestined.'
'That's a nice thought,' Meggie said, and wanted to leap on him.
'Douglas wasn't particularly ripe,' Alex said and toasted him with her teacup.
'Just thinking about it makes me want a brandy. Jeremy, will you join me?'
'No, thank you, Uncle Douglas. I must be going. I very much wanted to see you, to see that everything was going well, and I see that it is. And here's little Meggie, all grown up now.' He rose, hugged Alex, shook Douglas's hand, and walked to Meggie. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to take him right down to the floor and kiss him until he was silly with it. She wanted him to moan, something she had heard her father and Mary Rose doing when they didn't think anyone was about. Jeremy took her hand, lingered just a moment-a bloody cousin's linger-nothing more. 'I wish you the best during your Season, my dear.'
Meggie realized in that moment that Jeremy wasn't even close to feeling about her as she did about him. Well, after all, the last time he had seen her she'd been only thirteen years old, and she shuddered at that thought. He'd already been a young man. And he'd only seen her for the first time in many years just fifteen hours before. She had to give him a bit more time, to build memories she already had of him, and that meant creating the opportunity for him to fall tip over arse. She said with a guileless smile, 'Uncle Douglas and Aunt Alex aren't up as early as they used to be'-clearly a lie of the first order-'and I love to ride early in the morning before everyone is out and about. I would like to go riding with you tomorrow morning, Jeremy. Could you be here at seven o'clock? Is that too early?'
Jeremy said without hesitation, 'I should like that very much. I would be delighted to observe an exceptional horsewoman in action. Tomorrow morning, Meggie.'
He squeezed her hand. And then he was gone. She heard him say something to Darby, heard the front door close.
Meggie said to her aunt and uncle, 'He was only here for fifteen minutes.' Then she left the drawing room, humming.
'I don't like this, Alex,' Douglas said and downed his brandy. 'I don't like this at all. He is too old for her. Indeed, I don't think he even saw her-you know what I mean?'
'I wonder,' Alex said, nodding, 'what he was going to tell us before Darby came in.'
'I don't know. Maybe I don't want to know. Hopefully it was something to do with his new stud. I heard he was dealing with Marcus Wyndham. Now, there is a man I would gladly drink with.' A black brow suddenly shot up. 'When did we become too old to ride in the morning?
All right, so we didn't ride this morning. On the other hand we didn't get to our bed until nearly three o'clock.'
His wife rose and walked to him. She was wearing a lovely soft pink silk dress that was, he saw, cut far too low, displaying too much of a magnificent bosom. She touched her fingertips to his sleeve and said, eyes twinkling, 'And then you were resolved to show me an excess of affection, Douglas.'
Douglas looked at her barely covered breasts, grunted, and poured himself another snifter of brandy. His fingers still tingled at the thought of touching her. It was amazing.
Chapter 4
MEGGIE WORE HER new dark blue riding habit with its beautifully worked lace spilling out over the bodice, fitted at the waist with a narrow cloth belt. The skirts were full and looked quite elegant spread around her as she sat atop Eleanor's back, her black boots peeping out, waiting for Jeremy Stanton-Greville. Stanton-Greville. She'd always thought two last names sounded rather absurd, but realized that if everything came to pass as she wanted it to, as she prayed it would, why, she herself would have two names as well. She started, surprised at herself.
No, no, it wasn't as if he were a stranger to her, he wasn't. She'd known he was hers from that day when she was only thirteen years old. So she had forgotten him for five years. He'd probably forgotten her as well.
Now that she thought about it, deeply, she decided that two names had become, overnight, quite distinguished.
She yearned for two names.
It was exactly seven-thirty in the morning, a dreary cold morning, with fat gray rain clouds hanging low overhead. To Meggie, the gray clouds were lovely, the morning was perfect, holding more promise than the day before, more delight than just an hour before.
Yes, it would rain, but not for several hours, that was what Old Hamish had told her. He was the head stable lad, all of sixty years old, gnarly as an old oak and very smart about the weather. Surely she would have Jeremy out of the park, off his horse, and under a lovely romantic shelter before it started raining. All she needed was two hours, maybe less. She was committed; she was focused. She just had to set Jeremy thinking on a straight line, one that led directly to her. She just had to assist him to truly understand why he was really here in
